Different Slants

Robert M. Katzman’s Amazing Story:  http://www.differentslants.com/?p=355 

© June 20, 2013

My relentless surgeries

Nearly three dozen

An incomprehensible number

Akin to counting stars

Accepting and knowing

There is no conclusion to it

So many scars

Like an unprotected moon

Pelted by

Jagged asteroids

The thin red lines

Tell their stories

From my head to toe

Randomly in between

Have

Given me insight

Into

 What’s important

Between these

Sharp-edged assaults

 

Why friends matter

 What not to put up with

Why a person should speak up

 When a wrong thing is happening

The necessity of finding and keeping love

Seeing beyond beauty

And cherishing substance

Finding something to fight for

And doing it

Supporting a lone voice

So it ceases to be

A lone voice

The comfort of silence

Reading a book in silence

My imagination

Populating the room

 The joy of becoming

 Lost

Floating through time

Within a thick book

Seeing pieces of history

Fit together

Anticipating

a fine charred steak

Seeing the steak

Inhaling the aroma

The work of

A creative chef

Eating the steak

Leaving the restaurant

With the flavor

Still enmeshed in my senses

And then remembering the steak

If you don’t understand this

More words won’t help you

My children

Who they marry

Their children

Then seeing or hearing

Some obscure thing

I’ve taught

Passed along

Of equal importance

Maybe not to some

But always, to me

Not to be too busy to

 Cuddle my dogs

and

Make them feel secure

Because they need it

and

They know I understand

That simple need

I see it in their eyes

Dogs

Are an acute judge of

Character

They know who is dangerous

Who is loving

When a random dog

Encounters me

And allows my soft touch

To its fur

Letting me

Sincerely scratch

The bases of their ears

They have judged me

And not found me wanting

This is really important

So, in a way

I’m blessed

Blessed with understanding

Maybe more so

 Than others

Who consider themselves

More fortunate

Than I am

But whose scars

May not be so visible

Nor so beneficial

Some curse the rainy day

A ballgame cancelled

A ruined transmission

A failing grade

A missed train or plane

A promotion denied

Some rue

 Gray hair or losing it

Wrinkles

Spreading like a

Parched cracked lakebed

A missed putt

Insufficient popularity

Lack of

Recognition

Calls unreturned

Journeys not taken

Missed opportunity

But I

I know what a good day is

How many people

Actually know

What a good day is?

A good day

Involves

Neither scalpels nor stitches

With such an

Enlightened

Awareness

Does not the sun shine

More brightly for me?

A soft wind more caressing?

An embrace more fulfilling?

I am not scarred

I am blessed

But also

Blessed to know it

(Epilogue: Surgery # 36 and # 37 came on January 5, 2016, thirty months later. Except it was four procedures spread over five weeks. My store was closed, I couldn’t work and maybe I can catch up on some reading. Or write some more stories. It seems likely that # 38 will happen this winter. Life goes on, right?  God, I sure hope so.)

(Ok, another epilogogue added on December 19, 2017: # 38 was an opperation on my left shoulder which happened on December 8th. There was a torn rotator cuff, bursitis, arthritis and bone spurs. Recovering as of today.)